


I hate marriage!

by Zauzat



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zauzat/pseuds/Zauzat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Narada everyone is getting married and Pike is having a sulk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I hate marriage!

**Author's Note:**

> _For Phil Boyce, think Mark Harmon (NCIS Gibbs)._  
>  Written for the _Let's get gay married!_ multi-fandom comment-a-thon in celebration of New York's new marriage laws.

“I hate marriage!”

Newly-minted Admiral Chris Pike sat on the sofa of Starfleet’s Surgeon General, Admiral Phil Boyce, with arms aggressively crossed, clearly sulking.

“What brought this on? I clearly remember you enjoying yourself at Jim and Len’s knees-up recently.”

“That was more to do with finally being able to drink alcohol after all the fucking surgeries,” grumbled Chris. Phil gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh all right, maybe the two of them work. The Kirk boy needs somebody to keep him in line, and it’s time McCoy stopped wallowing in post-divorce misery. But all the others? What’s got into people?”

“Come off it, Chris. A planet destroyed? Earth nearly suffering the same fate? Is it any wonder people want to celebrate life and love? Want to make sure the people they care about know that they’re loved?” Phil flopped down next to Chris on the sofa. “You’re not nearly the curmudgeon you’re pretending to be. You had tears in your eyes at Spock and Uhura’s do.”

Pike pouted. “Yes, well, so they make sense. They’ve been at it for years anyway. And it stops the new Vulcan government trying to marry Spock off to some appropriate girl. Probably gives him the stability of a bond now so many Vulcans are gone.”

“Or maybe they’re just mad for each other and don’t need any other damned excuse,” retorted Phil. “What’s put you in this mood anyway?”

“All the rest of the damned requests. The Enterprise helmsman - Sulu, you know him? He came to me dragging the Russian kid-navigator behind him. The kid is about twelve! They’ve known each other for five minutes. But Chekov saved Sulu’s life and now it’s roses and bunnies for ever after. I don’t fucking think so!”

“I hear the kid is actually seventeen and he is a bridge officer who we are happy to send out to die for us. Anyway, what did you say to them?”

“Told them to come back when the kid’s twenty-one and has started to shave. Don’t laugh!” Chris turned accusingly to Phil. “At least them I know. I’m getting dozens of requests daily from complete strangers to have me officiate at their weddings. Apparently I’m considered some kind of fucking good-luck charm.”

“The press coverage of you marrying Jim and Len, and Spock and Nyota is probably responsible for that. Or maybe the fact that you’re a planet-wide hero?”

“Well, they can all just fuck off,” grumbled Chris. “Enough with the damned celebrating.” He kicked moodily at the crutch that lay by the sofa. He might be out of the wheelchair but he was a long way from fully healed after his torture at the hands of Romulans.

Phil looked across at the other man indulgently. “Chris, do you remember the first time I met you?”

“Of course. You did my recruitment physical the day I turned up to join the Academy.”

“Yes, back when you were no more than seventeen yourself. Do you remember the first time you suggested we fuck?”

Chris grinned despite himself. “Oh yeah, about five minutes into that first physical. Damn but you were the finest thing I’d ever seen, all young and broodingly handsome!”

“Hmm. And do you remember the first time we did actually fuck?”

“Hell yeah! I’d barely made it out of the hall from my Academy graduation before you pulled me into a deserted corridor. I was supposed to be going to a dinner with my father and all his Admiralty bigwig friends and you were fucking the living daylights out of me in an empty classroom. Good times!”

Phil laughed. “Well, you had been fucking cock-teasing me relentlessly through your three years as a cadet. So, do you remember the first time I saved your life?”

Chris looked sombre again. “That thing on Rigel V, just after I took command of the USS Yorktown and got you onboard as my CMO. Punctured lung, five broken ribs and major internal bleeding.”

“Yup, you flat-lined on my table, you bastard. Took years off my life. Do you remember the first time you saved mine?”

“You mean on Reveillyme, when those cretins took you hostage because you treated one of the rebels and they wanted to execute you as some kind of idiotic message? Yeah, I wasn’t impressed by that.”  

“That is an understatement,” replied Phil. “You took apart three guards with your bare hands before the Yorktown managed to beam us all out.”

“They don’t get to take liberties with my CMO,” mumbled Chris.

“So, do you remember the first time we made a promise to each other?”

“Did we? Or do you mean the promise not to promise anything. Just have fun, no commitments, careers always to come first.”

“That’s the one. We’ve known each other for over thirty years, do you know that? Three decades married to our careers, snatching time together between assignments, every time possibly the last time.” Phil took a deep breath. “Do you remember the first time I proposed marriage to you?”

“ _What_?” Chris shifted round on the sofa to stare at him. “You’ve never! Why would you?”

“Let’s try that again. See if you’re as bright as everyone claims. Do you remember the first time I proposed marriage to you?”

Chris looked at him for a long moment. “A minute ago?” he said at last, voice tentative.

“Clever boy,” said Phil softly, “I knew we made you an Admiral for a reason. So?”

“You’re not doing this properly,” prevaricated Chris. “You should be down on your knees.”

“At my age, if I get down on my knees, I’m liable to get stuck there,” retorted Phil.

“Well, if you were stuck down there, you could always make yourself useful...”

“Chris!” interrupted Phil, “I’m serious.”

“Why now?”

“Before you were heading out on another five-year tour. Now you’re not. You’re at Starfleet Command for the foreseeable future, like I am. Our world has changed, Chris. Some of it in ways that are appalling to contemplate. But that doesn’t stop us from making other changes that might lead to better things. What do you say?”

Chris shook his head in bewilderment, a slow smile beginning to spread across his face. “When have I _ever_ been able to say no to you?”

Words were lost for many long moments in the hot slide of lips and tongues, territory that they already knew so intimately but suddenly seemed startlingly new, a well-known landscape lit by a bright new sun.

“At least I won’t have to officiate this time,” conceded Chris, between trailing sloppy kisses across Phil’s cheek.

“I was thinking that we could ask Captain Kirk to do it,” replied Phil.

“What? Hell no! His head is already the size of the planet.”

“And what did we just discuss about you saying no to me?”

Chris groaned and buried his head in the crook of Phil’s neck. “Five minutes and I’m already a hen-pecked husband. I hate marriage!”

\- THE END -


End file.
